


Picture Perfect

by supersapphics



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-04
Updated: 2019-05-04
Packaged: 2020-02-23 21:22:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18710212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/supersapphics/pseuds/supersapphics
Summary: While drawing portraits in Central Park, Clary meets not just one, but two beautiful women she can't get out of her mind.And neither of them can get Clary out of their minds, either.





	Picture Perfect

**Author's Note:**

> Written for my babe Bri (carmenlire), who asked for a short and cute fic about Claiabelle. I hope you like it Bri!
> 
> Btw, I have no idea what artists in Central Park charge, so sorry if the prices seem ridiculous. I tried googling it but google was so no help, so I just made something up lol.

Clary lifts her hair off the back of her neck and winces at the sweat she can feel collecting on her overheated skin. She’s been trying to stay hydrated but there’s only so many water bottles she can chug from at a time, and that doesn’t change the fact that the sun is beating down on her.

She twists her hair into a knot and secures it with the hair tie she always carries on her wrist. That helps a bit and she stretches out her legs, trying to get comfortable without having to stand. She’s been sitting in Central Park for the past two hours, her sketchpad on her lap and a welcoming smile on her face (she hopes) to encourage passersby to stop. As much as she loves drawing for fun or for practice, if she wants to make a career out of this, then she does need to charge occasionally, and the park seemed like a great place to meet potential clients.

Just then, she notices the most beautiful woman she’s ever seen approaching her. The woman has long, dark hair pulled into a high ponytail and is wearing a very cute sundress and sandals. She smiles brightly when she catches Clary’s eye and comes to a stop in front of her.

“Hi, are you doing caricatures?”

“Portraits,” Clary corrects. “Would you like me to draw one for you?”

“I would love it,” the woman says, sinking gracefully onto the bench next to her. “I’m Isabelle, by the way.”

“Clary.”

“Nice to meet you, Clary.”

Clary ducks her head to hide her pleased smile. She can’t believe her luck, that not only does she finally have a customer, but also that it’s such a gorgeous woman like Isabelle. And now she has an excuse to stare at her for the next half hour.

She selects her pencils, adjusts her sketchpad, and begins to draw. Isabelle is a perfect model – she sits completely still, but effortlessly follows Clary’s requests to turn her head or adjust her posture just so. Clary is rather disappointed when she finishes the portrait, because now Isabelle is going to leave, and Clary really doesn’t want her to.

“Done already?” Isabelle asks, sounding impressed.

“See for yourself,” Clary answers, handing over her sketchpad.

Isabelle examines the portrait with a thoroughness that makes Clary feel a bit nervous. Yet it turns out she needn’t have worried – when Isabelle looks up again, she’s beaming.

“Clary, this is _amazing!_ This could be a photograph, that’s how perfect it looks! You’re so talented.”

“Thank you so much,” Clary says, hoping her blush isn’t too obvious. “I’m really glad you like it.”

“I _love_ it,” Isabelle responds. “How much do I owe you?”

“$10 is fine.”

Isabelle raises both eyebrows. “Only $10? Clary, no. That would be an insult to you. You created something so lovely for me, I couldn’t possibly give you so little in return. Here.” She sets the sketchpad down in her lap and reaches for her clutch, then pushes a crisp bill into Clary’s hand.

When Clary unfolds it, she’s stunned to find herself holding a $100 bill. “Isabelle, I’m very flattered, but I can’t accept th –”

“You earned it,” Isabelle interrupts, her voice firm. “Really, I mean it.”

“Well…thanks very much, I really appreciate this. Here…” Clary picks up the sketchpad and carefully tears the page with Isabelle’s portrait free. She digs into her backpack and pulls out the folder full of plastic sheet protectors she brings with her for this very purpose. She tucks the portrait inside one of the plastic sheets and hands it back to Isabelle. “There you go.”

“Thank you. Well, Clary, unfortunately I have to get going. But it was such a pleasure to meet you today, and I’ll definitely be back, ok?”

“I look forward to it,” Clary says, smiling up at Isabelle as she rises to her feet. She actually doubts Isabelle is telling the truth – she’s probably just saying that to be polite – but the other woman is smiling at her and she can’t help but reciprocate.

“Have a nice rest of your day,” Isabelle calls over her shoulder as she departs. Clary watches her until she’s vanished from sight and then leans back against the bench with a sigh. She didn’t think anyone would blame her if she said she was a little bit in love with the lovely Isabelle.

 

 

Clary unpacks her gear, humming under her breath. It’s been three days since she’d met Isabelle, and even though she hasn’t returned as of yet, Clary’s been doing pretty well for herself since then. Maybe her success with Isabelle had given her a confidence boost that other passersby could somehow sense radiating off of her, because in the past few days, she’d had several people stop and sit for portraits. She still wasn’t comfortable asking for $100, no matter what Isabelle had insisted about her deserving it, but she’d started asking for $30 and no one had batted an eye. A few people had even tipped her on top of that.

All in all, she’s feeling happy and successful and optimistic.

A woman with two small children stops by and requests a family portrait. The kids are very cute and Clary is incredibly pleased with the result. Considering that she’d drawn three people instead of the usual singular person, she feels comfortable asking for $50 this time. The woman hands over $75, insisting that Clary had earned it.

About fifteen minutes after she and her children depart, Clary looks up and sees a stunning woman walking toward her. She’s wearing a short denim skirt and T-shirt which are perfect for the warm weather, and best of all, she’s locked eyes with Clary.

“Hey!” the goddess says cheerfully. “Are you doing portraits? Could you do one of me?”

“Sure, I’d love to,” Clary answers, flashing the woman a warm smile which is immediately returned. “I’m Clary, by the way.”

“Maia. How do you want me?”

“Uh.” Clary clears her throat as a way of distracting herself from saying something inappropriate. “Sitting still is probably the easiest for you because then you don’t have to hold a specific pose, but – if you want me to draw you in a specific pose, just let me know. I can do pretty much anything.”

“Good to know,” Maia replies, grinning, and Clary’s eyes widen slightly – is Maia flirting with her? She refuses to answer her own question. She’s a professional and she has a job to do.

“Why don’t we try this – you tilt your head back a little and close your eyes, like you’re looking up at the sun and enjoying the warmth?”

“That sounds perfect,” Maia agrees, striking the pose. Clary begins to draw, enjoying every opportunity she gets to look up and drink in Maia’s features. Occasionally Maia will catch her eye and wink at her, which always makes Clary smile and look back down at her sketchpad, blushing. After this has happened about three times, she swears she hears a quiet chuckle coming from Maia, but it feels like Maia is laughing _with_ her, not at her, so she doesn’t mind.

“Well, all done,” she announces sometime later. Just like with Isabelle, she’s disappointed that she’s already finished. She wants to spend more time in Maia’s presence, but what excuse can she come up with? She has none.

“Wow,” Maia breathes when she examines the portrait. “My girlfriend was right about you. You really are amazing.”

Clary’s heart sinks. Of course Maia has a girlfriend. How could she possibly be single, when she’s that gorgeous and charming? She must’ve been imaging that Maia was flirting with her earlier.

Then another part of what Maia had said sinks in. “Your girlfriend has come by here too?”

“Yeah, a few days ago,” Maia replies. “She was really impressed with the portrait you made for her, so she recommended that I stop by and get one of my own.”

That’s not very helpful, since Clary has had multiple clients in the past few days, and many of them had been women, several of them around Maia’s age. Oh well. She supposes it doesn’t matter. Maia has a girlfriend, Isabelle hasn’t been back, and Clary is still painfully single. At least she’s gotten to enjoy both Isabelle’s and Maia’s company, and that will have to be enough.

“This is really incredible,” Maia continues. “Thank you so much, Clary.” She hands over a few bills, too fast for Clary to count them, but she can already tell that it’s too much.

“I can’t –”

“Just take it,” Maia insists, “you deserve it.”

“Thank you…”

“No, thank you. I have to go now, but I’ll be back soon,” Maia promises.

“I hope so,” Clary says, feeling brave, and is rewarded with a wink from Maia before she leaves.

 

 

Clary has just arrived at her normal bench and is unpacking her materials when she hears footsteps behind her. She glances over her shoulder and is stunned to see both Maia and Isabelle approaching her. And what’s more, they’re holding hands.

It all makes sense now. Isabelle was Maia’s girlfriend – she was the one who had encouraged Maia to stop by and get her portrait done. She’s just not sure why they’re stopping by together. Unless they’re stopping by for a couple’s portrait?

She quickly pastes a welcoming smile on her face. “Hey, you two. Welcome back! What can I do for you two?”

“Hey, Clary,” Isabelle says with a warm smile. “Great to see you again. I was hoping you can draw something for us.”

“Sure,” says Clary, swallowing hard. “A couple’s portrait? Is there a specific pose you had in mind?”

“We have something in mind, but not a couple’s portrait,” says Isabelle.

“We have a very specific idea in mind,” Maia continues. “We were thinking, you could draw a portrait of us asking out our favorite Central Park artist.”

“I…” Clary looks down at her sketchpad, then back up at the two other women.  “I don’t understand.”

“Clary, ever since we met you, we haven’t been able to stop thinking about you,” Isabelle says. “And we both thought we noticed some interest from you last time we were each here. So we thought we’d come back here, together, and ask you what you thought of dating us.”

“Both of you?” Clary double-checks, glancing back and forth between the two women, not quite sure she can believe her luck.

“Yeah. We know it’s probably a lot to take in, but we thought we’d take our chances and ask,” says Maia.

Clary looks down at her sketchbook and begins drawing. Maia and Isabelle take their seats on the bench and watch her – she can feel the combined weight of their gazes as she sketches quickly in rough, broad strokes. A few minutes later, she holds up the sketchpad to show the two women a rough sketch of the three women walking through the park, holding hands with one another.

“I’d say both your chances look really good,” Clary says, smiling.

 

 

“Is she still asleep?” Clary asks.

“I just checked a couple of minutes ago and she was,” Isabelle confirms.

“Ok.” Clary takes a deep breath. “Here we go.”

“It’s going to be fine,” Isabelle assures her, squeezing her hand. “C’mon.” She pushes open the door to their bedroom and they step inside together, Clary holding the fully loaded breakfast tray.

Maia appears to have just woken up, which is good; Clary had been loath to wake her. She and Isabelle both approach the bed, smiling.

“’Morning, princess,” Isabelle greets Maia. “Did you sleep well?”

“I did,” Maia answers, “until I woke up and realized that I was alone in bed. How is that possible, when I have two girlfriends?”

“Sorry, princess,” Isabelle says, smirking. “We were planning a surprise for you.”

“Oh, I like the sound of that,” Maia says, grinning. “Is that the surprise?” She nods at the breakfast tray.

“It’s part of it,” Clary acknowledges. She holds out the tray. “Look for yourself.”

Maia accepts the tray, her eyes trained on the stack of pancakes at first, but then she notices the envelope tucked between the plate and the glass of orange juice. She picks it up, then looks up at Clary and Isabelle, questions in her eyes.

“Open it,” Clary urges her, her voice hushed. She doesn’t want to speak too loudly, as if she could ruin the moment by doing so. Although she knows nothing could ruin this moment.

Maia glances at Isabelle, who nods encouragingly, and opens the envelope. Inside is a page torn from Clary’s sketchbook. Clary had spent the entire day yesterday working on this sketch, wanting it to be as perfect as possible.

The sketch shows Maia sitting in this very bed, smiling at Clary and Isabelle, who are kneeling in front of her. Isabelle is holding out an engagement ring.

Maia looks up and both Clary and Isabelle are kneeling before her on the bed. Isabelle holds out her hand.

 

 


End file.
